


Ghost Writer

by Steangine



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Grimmjow is the perfect housekeeper, M/M, Post-Canon, megane Ichigo, past Ichigo/Orihime, there are cats, tired Ichigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 09:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steangine/pseuds/Steangine
Summary: Ichigo thinks he can take care of himself, especially during periods of high stress. Everybody else doesn't think so.For all those who keep saying "But Ichigo and Orihime are married, respect canon!", well, I've respected the canon timeline, bitches!Also, this is almost one week late for Valentine's Day, but whatever.





	Ghost Writer

**Author's Note:**

> Oldtown156 saved my ass again, proofreading this one shot (pssst, go read "Hungry Souls").

Ichigo was sleeping with his head on the table, arms as a pillow and three kittens idling on his shoulders. A much bigger cat was guarding the entrance of the living room, keeping who she considered intruders at a distance with repeated threatening hisses.

Orihime was more curious than worried. Last time she went visiting Ichigo (a very long time ago), he was awake, and his apartment was a mess of flying papers filled with scribbles and empty ideas on the new novel he was writing. Now he was enjoying his sleep so much that he didn’t react to either her or Ishida’s presence. Moreover, his apartment was neat and clean, with the cats as a bonus.

“Ichigo-kun?” She tried to call him, but all she obtained was another hiss.

Ishida was holding into his arms a child who wasn’t even one year old. She had her eyes wide open and was staring at the mother cat. “Orihime, hold her. I’ll wake him up.”

As Orihime took the baby, the small hood fell from her head, uncovering black shiny hair. “Kazui.” She called for her son, but no reply came. “Kazui!”

Ishida took a step forward and emitted a pained groan: the cat had just sunk her claws near his right knee.

“What’s wrong with this beast?!”

A voice from behind surprised them both.

“I told her nobody must awake Kurosaki before dinner.”

Grimmjow Jaegerjaques was wearing a human body shaped over his spirit form (except for the mask and the stigma under the eyes) and his usual ferocious scowl. On the left arm he had a huge brown paper bag from which some long vegetables popped out; under the right arm, Kazui was dangling like a sack.

“Mommy!” A smile shone under the scarf and hat. “I bought your favourite chocolate bread!” He presented a small pink paper bag.

Grimmjow let him go, and he fell on his feet. Orihime noticed his puffy cheeks were bright red because of the cold.

“Kazui, I was worried you went out without telling your dad!” She sighed in relief. “Thank god Grimmjow was with you!”

Ishida gave the cat a suspicious glance, which was exchanged with the same amount of suspicion, before going to Orihime’s side.

“Hime, did you know he was here?”

She smiled at him. “No! It’s been a while, Grimmjow!” She waved her hand at him.

“…then why are you so friendly with him?” Ishida adjusted his glasses and turned to Grimmjow, who ignored them both and went straight to the kitchenette at the opposite side of the living room. “Is Soul Society aware of presence your here?”

Grimmjow snorted. “Who do you think I am? That stupid Kurosaki?” Right before Ishida could take a breath of relief, he concluded. “Of course they don’t know. I’m a professional.”

“You know this could bring down trouble on us all, don’t you?”

Grimmjow was about to reply, but Orihime meddled into it with an energetic nod of the head. “Uryu is right! You should dye your hair, or else they’ll recognize you!”

“Hime, that’s not what I meant…” Ishida took few seconds to decide if it was worth the trouble trying to make her understand his point of view. He deemed it wasn’t, so he gave up. “What are you doing here? Grimmjow, isn’t it?”

Ishida had never met Grimmjow, but only heard of him from Ichigo and Orihime as one of the two Arrancar who helped them during the war – the other being Nel, who wandered into Urahara’s shop too often for Ishida not to have seen her there at least once a month.

“I’m here to fight Kurosaki, what else?” Grimmjow frowned. “Whatever.” He rustled inside the bag and muttered under his breath “Where the fuck is the milk?”

Everyone was too busy coping with the little surprises happening that day (unexpected guests and unexpected arrancars) to notice Ichigo woke up. He opened his eyes and noticed his head felt heavy, realizing the kittens used him as a pillow again.

“Mmmh… Grimmjow…” He called with a low drowsy voice. “…come take the kittens.”

Orihime gasped. “Ichigo-kun!” She got closer to him. “Good afternoon!”

Ichigo had his head turned away but recognized his ex-wife’s voice.

“Orihime. What are you doing here?”

The baby was fidgeting in her arms, so she couldn’t take the cats off Ichigo as she would like to.

“We went to fetch Kazui, remember?”

“Oh…” Silence. “Oh shit!” Ichigo raised his head and the kittens fell on the table. “It’s already this late? I’ve gotta do the groceries and pay the health insurance and–”

“–withdraw money. Done, done and done.” Grimmjow told him while putting the food away. However, more than reassuring, his voice had the scolding vibes of a parent. “Don’t talk as if you would have actually put on some clothes and left your spot.”

“Ah…” Too worn out to feel irritation for that remark, Ichigo resisted few more seconds, then let his wobbly head fall again on the table. Orihime was worried about the dark circles under his eyes and the pale complexion. Ishida, for his part, didn’t seem to care about those signs of poor rest: he wanted answers to his questions.

“Ichigo, what’s an arrancar doing here?”

“Uh?” Ichigo glanced at him. “Helping me here… so I can finish this novel faster.” His eyes lost the last glimmer of life flickering into them and became empty orbs staring at a distance he couldn’t see. “They set a deadline for one month and I must make it in time.”

Ishida rarely felt close to Ichigo, but, in that case, he allowed a small sincere nod of pity for him. Orihime looked puzzled.

“Why don’t you go into the dangai? With the difference of time you’ll have a lot of time to finish!”

Ishida glanced at her, not believing she had just proposed such a solution. “That’s not a good idea.” What worried him, was that Ichigo’s eyes regained some life at Orihime’s suggestion, and Ishida had no means to know to what extent he was taking that advice seriously. He coughed. “Now we should go. My father is waiting for us.”

“Oh yes!” Orihime acted as if she had just remembered it. “Ryuuken-san invited us for dinner!” She explained to Ichigo.

“Nu-uh…” Ichigo didn’t look like he understood what she said; from his empty stare, it seemed like his mind wasn’t completely there with them.

Kazui grabbed his mother’s skirt and looked up at her. “Mom, may I stay with dad tonight?”

She caressed his hair. “No, Kazui. You stayed yesterday already, and we promised Ryuuken.”

Ichigo smiled at the pout of his son: he was a small copy of Orihime, and, from time to time, his father affirmed he had something of Masaki in him. He straightened his back and made a sign to come closer. Kazui jumped on his lap.

“Dad, may I?”

His eyes were sparkling, but Ichigo was shielded from those sweet attacks thanks to his family (especially Isshin and Yuzu). “I’d like you to.” He ruffled his hair. “But your mom’s right: you promised.”

Kazui’s hope turned into sadness. “I know…” His voice was dull.

Without any warning, Grimmjow, still busy with groceries, reprimanded him with a severe but calm voice. “Get out, brat.” He whipped in the air the celery stick at each word.

As if Grimmjow pushed some button, Kazui’s cheerful mood turned on again. “Okay!”

Orihime and Ishida exchanged a quick glance: he’d never been so obedient to anyone without a bit of insistence. Ishida got closer to Ichigo, so he could speak in a lower voice.

“Why is he helping you?”

“If I finish my novel, we can fight.” Ichigo didn’t manage to bear Ishida’s pitiful look for long. He spoke in a tired voice. “Listen, I know it was a promise I made when I was seventeen, but it looks like arrancars don’t cling to stuff like age or time or whatever.”

“…you should shut your mouth more often, Ichigo.” Ishida adjusted his glasses, ignoring the glare. “Ready to leave, Orihime?”

Orihime nodded. “Of course! Grimmjow!” Grimmjow growled; he was listening. “Remember to dye your hair black! This way Shinigami shouldn’t recognize you, and you won’t have any troubles!”

Ishida groaned. “Hime, why don’t you stop telling them how to break the law?”

***

Around three years ago, Ichigo and Orihime divorced. It wasn’t one of the divorces people heard of from the television or the newspapers; they realized they didn’t love each other anymore as before, settled things and had a peaceful separation without scarring Kazui – the latter was their main worry. About one year later, Orihime started a relationship with Ishida; another year later, she was pregnant again. But this time, it was different. She couldn’t tell why, but she was sure with Ishida they wouldn’t have to meet a lawyer to sign ~~the~~ papers. So, she was serene when Tatsuki pointed out it was too early for a baby, or when Chad asked her if she was sure about it. Ichigo and Rukia were simply happy when she told them: their feelings and support made her cry more than once.

That was why she was giggling while sipping her tea with Rukia. Twice a month they met, once in Seireitei, once in the living world. Byakuya gave his permission to set a table in the garden of the Kuchiki mansion, and Orihime enjoyed visiting it; each time was like the first for her, so she kept awing in amazement at the koi carp swimming in the lake under the thin layer of ice. There was snow around them, but a warm fire was set to keep them comfortable even in biting weather.

“Orihime, what makes you so happy?”

“I’m glad Ichigo-kun has a friend helping him out. I’ve always been worried about him wearing himself out for work.” She sighed. “Do you remember last year we found him passed out on the floor?”

Rukia nodded. “That fool. He should learn when he’s near his limit.”

“Usually Kazui stays at his place three or four days per week. But they changed the deadline, so I explained Kazui he’ll see his dad a little less.”

“You could bring him next time. Ichika has been feeling quite lonely lately.” Pause. “When she doesn’t sneak into the living world all by herself.” Despite she maintained a composed expression, her voice sounded proud.

Rukia put the cup of tea on the table and looked at the lake. Everything was peaceful, without Renji and Ichika who made a contest between them out of every little thing. She always missed them a bit, but she didn’t mind spending some time alone with her friends.

“You know what, Orihime?” She smiled. “I’ll go visit Ichigo when I’m finished with some missions. But don’t tell him anything, it’s a surprise, okay?”

Orihime nodded; she also thought it was a wonderful idea. At least until her mind connected all the pieces to the main vector susceptible of spreading chaos. She managed to hide a gasp behind a small cough, not drawing any suspicious looks towards her – Rukia was too sharp, and she had no means to hide things from her when asked directly. While looking at the clear blue sky, a feeble worry clenched her chest.

_ I wonder if everything will be okay _ .

“Ah, Orihime!”

“Yes?”

“Do I know this _friend_?” Her shining eyes matched with a devilish smirk. Orihime didn’t know if she should tell Rukia it was only a friend and nothing more.

“Well… I don’t think so?” She chuckled.

***

Orihime was wrong on one point. Grimmjow wasn’t only a friend.

With his work, Ichigo reached levels of stress that he didn’t even know existed. Deadlines kept falling on him with the violence of a rainstorm; his editor was a tyrant maniacal for perfection and kept calling him no matter what time of the day it was. Going around for autographs sessions and book presentations would be pleasant in comparison, if it wasn’t for some fans who started stalking him to the point Ichigo thought more than once that fighting Aizen and Yhwach again would be better.

Grimmjow’s obsession with them settling their battle became Ichigo’s salvation in that work storm. Actually, they settled things many years ago in the short period of time between high school and university. Ichigo won. Grimmjow wasn’t satisfied. An even result, 2-2, wasn’t good enough for him. They fought again and Ichigo won. Of course, a loss wasn’t acceptable. Grimmjow won. Even. Ichigo won. Loss. Grimmjow. Ichigo. Grimmjow. Ichigo. It became a wheel that couldn’t be stopped. And when the wall of Ichigo’s life ~~became~~ finally became too high to climb and too strong to smash, Grimmjow decided to go along with the events until Ichigo had enough free time to fight again – Ichigo almost choking him with bare hands (in his human body) when he crushed inside his apartment and destroyed his laptop, almost erasing three months’ worth of work, changed his mind on forcing him to fight.

“Kurosaki.”

Ichigo was staring at the screen and munching on the stem of his glasses.

“I’m working.” He replied with a plain voice.

“You’re stuck.”

“I’m not.”

“You always do that when you’re stuck.”

Ichigo wondered how much of him Grimmjow discovered in those months of cohabitation. He turned around, ready to shoo him away, but an unexpected element blocked him. Ichigo was sure that, until lunch, Grimmjow’s hair was blue and not black.

“What have you done to your hair?”

“Dyed it.”

“…why?”

“Why not?”

“Don’t tell me you have really followed Orihime’s advice?” Ichigo didn’t wait for an answer. He turned his chair to again face ~~again~~ the screen. But two seconds later, he was facing Grimmjow again. “Hey…” His eyebrows twitched. “Turn the chair back.”

Grimmjow knelt in front of him. Ichigo had to expect it, because it always happened: whenever he was stressed and overwhelmed, Grimmjow realized it right away. He didn’t remember how they reached that point, but, after all, it didn’t matter.

“I have work to do.”

Ichigo sank a bit more against the seatback. He opened his legs and made space for him.

“Are you rushing me?”

“Mmmh…” Ichigo reclined his head and closed his eyes. “No.”

Grimmjow’s hands were strong, but his mouth was gentle; a strange combination for someone who loved leaving deep bite marks during sex. The first time was rough, Ichigo remembered how half of him was excited and the other half scared to death of losing something he didn’t really want to lose. But Grimmjow didn’t hurt him; he explored his body with extreme care, paid attention to every reaction, and each moan and jolt coming from Ichigo was something he treasured for the future.

“Nh…”

Ichigo liked the tickling sensation of the lips brushing against his stomach, following the trail to his navel and prolonging the wait. However, there were times his whole body itched in stress, and he couldn’t endure much. This was one of those days. With one hand, he uncovered his already hard dick, and Grimmjow glanced at him.

“Tch. Seriously, this early?”

Ah, he was almost 30 and still blushed like a teenager.

“Shut up Grimmjow. You started it.”

Ichigo clenched both hands on the edges of the chair as he observed the tip of his dick disappearing inside Grimmjow’s mouth. Later, he would wonder again how and when Grimmjow became his sexual partner, but in that moment, his mind was too busy drowning in a deep humid pleasure.

***

“Ichigo! We need your help!”

It had been a while since Rukia burst into the living world yelling his name because some freaky shit had gone havoc somewhere in one of the three worlds. Ichigo raised his head from the keyboard so fast that one of the kittens, trying to paw at the glasses inclined on his nose, retreated in shock.

“Uh. Is Seireitei burning again?” Ichigo yelled with a stupid expression on his face. “Rukia? Renji?”

“No, fool!” Rukia was grinning. Nothing in her stance was giving the vibes she truly needed Ichigo’s help. “We’re going for a walk and to look for Ichika! Shave that half assed beard on your chin!” She pointed at the five o’ clock shadow covering his chin and part of his cheeks.

Ichigo squeezed his eyes to better see through the blurry veil of drowsiness but soon renounced it and smashed his head back on the table.

“Come on! Have a shower and get out of those pajamas! Ichika is–”

“Right there.”

Rukia and Renji followed the direction Ichigo’s right arm was pointing towards. At the center of the living room, in front of the television, two people were sprawled on the couch. Rukia would recognize anywhere her daughter’s long thin legs dangling from one of the armrests; however, she had no clues on whom, among hers and Ichigo’s common circle of acquaintances, had such messy black hair. The impatience and curiosity devouring her from inside since omit Orihime talked about _a friend_ set her in motion faster than Renji’s lecture to Ichika ready to roll off from the tip of his tongue. Rukia leaped from behind the couch with a single swift jump and covered the television standing in front of the two players with her arms akimbo.

Two voices mingled together in the same disappointed grunt. Rukia almost didn’t hear the voice of her daughter wanting her to move away from there, or the growl of the man sitting at the opposite side. She was busy contemplating that Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, the arrancar who almost sent her into the eternal void, was spending some leisure time with her daughter.

“Mom! The cutscene is finishing! Move!”

Grimmjow glared at Ichika. “The deal is that you vanish when if parents come to fetch you. Begone!”

“Eeeeeh?!” Ichika rolled her head back to look at Grimmjow. “I want to play! You don’t tell me what to do!” She stuck her tongue out.

Rukia was trying to elaborate the scene in front of her. Her daughter, wearing a pair of shorts and one of Ichigo’s t-shirts (as big as a dress for her), was playing videogames with the ex-Espada who stuck an arm into her, and thirteen years ago helped them save Seireitei from Yhwach. He had blue hair back then, and a mask. One name formed into her mind. _Urahara_. She would kill him later.

“What are you doing here?”

Ichika stopped complaining and sat down. She knew her mother was truly angered when her severe voice echoed in a low tone, so, she didn’t add anything else and looked at her father for help.

“I’m talking to you, arrancar! Who let you stay here?”

As well as everyone in there, Grimmjow believed Rukia was angered with Ichika, so he was genuinely surprised when she addressed him. “I don’t need anyone’s approval.”

“Why did Urahara Kisuke give you a gigai?”

Ichigo’s voice floated like that of a ghost. “He is my temporary maid.”

Renji’s jaw fell. “Your what?!”

A cushion flew into the air, hitting Ichigo’s head after descending in a perfect curve. “Your maid my ass! I’m just here to prevent you from killing yourself!”

“I can take care of myself!” Ichigo managed to keep his head up for more than five seconds in that burst of irritation. “I am a perfectly functional adult!” Said that, he collapsed on the table again.

“You wouldn’t even remember to drink water, if it wasn’t for me!”

Ichigo scoffed, but no one could take him seriously, as he didn’t even raise his head again. “Because _you_ remember!”

“Of course, I do! I know I must keep this mortal sickly body nourished and hydrated!”

Rukia and Renji exchanged a quick glance, then looked at Ichika, who shrugged. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. They do like this aaaaall the time. Like you two.”

“All… the time?” Renji crouched down on one knee to face his daughter. “Ichika, how many times did you come here?”

Ichika had just realized she put herself into the sack with her own hands. She tried to look away, but Renji put a hand on her head, and she had no more means to escape his questioning eyes.

“Uhm… two times? Maybe…”

Grimmjow came back from the argument with Ichigo and pushed her deeper down in the grave. “It’s been about a month that she’s been coming here two or three times a week. And she bullies the humans who cannot see her. Pitiful.” He spat out.

Renji was so fast at grabbing his daughter, that Ichika found herself hanging from his shoulder without any chance of fighting back. “You’re grounded, miss.”

Rukia nodded with energy. “You’re grounded as well, Ichigo!”

Ichigo looked shocked, but still with only half his body leaning on the table. “Why me? You’re not my mother!”

“I didn’t raise you to be so rude!”

“You didn’t raise me at all!”

Rukia didn’t listen to him. “Now stop writing and come outside! We’re going shopping!”

Renji , Ichika and Ichigo reacted at the same time. “EH?!”

Grimmjow took the controller Ichika left behind and resumed the game by shooting a zombie right in between the eyes. “I’ll stay here and guard the apartment. Goodbye.”

Renji and Ichika were giving food to the fish in the small pond. Fish themselves weren’t news to them, but the koi carps of the Kuchiki mansion were a decoration of the whole garden, so they couldn’t enjoy the view of them raising to the surface as a whole and fight to get the crumbles of bread – only Byakuya fed them. It was cold, their hands were reddish, but they stayed on the bank; Ichigo and Rukia were looking at them through the windows of the café.

“They act as if they’ve never seen a fish before.”

“You’re always so cranky.” Rukia pointed out. “Hey, Ichigo, tell me something.” She put down the cup of coffee milk. “Why haven’t you told me before…” Ichigo stiffened. “…about the kittens?”

“…huh?”

“Don’t lie to my face, I saw them!”

“I didn’t say anything! Shouldn’t you be asking about Grimmjow instead?”

Rukia shook one hand with a hint of impatience. “He’s not that important now! You had kittens and never told me!” A hand on the chest and the fake sad tone of a diva: it seemed like all Shinigami loved the drama. “Your friend!” She poured more sugar into the cup. “Send me pictures.” Another sip of coffee, and a satisfied smile brightened her face. But it lasted only for few seconds, before seriousness clouded her face. “Why Grimmjow?”

Ichigo raised his eyes from the black coffee. “I have no idea.”

“You stupid, how–”

“It just happened. I don’t know how.” He recognized in Rukia’s eyes his same confusion. “He arrived and settled into my life.” Ichigo couldn’t think of the moment when Grimmjow started being an important part of his life, when it became normal having him around as both a bother and a support.

“Well, nothing about you could be considered normal…”

“Hey!”

“…so I guess it’s fine.”

Ichigo smirked. “Won’t you report me to the Gotei 13?”

“You are the substitute Shinigami of Karakura, and you are keeping a close eye on a potential danger.” Rukia took a long noisy sip. “I won’t be telling them the potential danger takes care of you because you cannot take care of yourself.”

“Hey, I can perfectly take care of myself!”

However, nor Rukia nor Grimmjow trusted his skills of self-preservation. The first thing Grimmjow said when they came back home was a harsh “Have you drunk something which isn’t coffee?” and shoved a glass filled with water into Ichigo’s right hand.

“I don’t need a babysitter! I know when I need to drink water!”

Rukia glanced at him. “Then why aren’t you putting that glass down?”

Grimmjow’s scowl deepened. “These useless mortal bodies need to stay hydrated and healthy, or else they’ll–”

“–decay.”

Nobody expected Renji to complete Grimmjow’s sentence. Grimmjow himself was so puzzled that he couldn’t say anything else but stare at him bewildered. Surrounded by silence and surprised eyes, Renji felt like he should give an explanation.

“I’m in one of Urahara’s gigai as well and–”

“–he rented it.” Grimmjow concluded, provoking a bewildered shock from Renji.

“Yeah! And he said that I must take care of it or else–”

Renji knew what came next, and Grimmjow didn’t betray his expectations. “–he knows where to find us.”

The whole situation reminded Ichigo of some corny stories Yuzu forced him to watch with her. Grimmjow and Renji were staring at each other like two long lost brothers who had just realized they were kin.

Grimmjow pointed at the kitchenette with his right thumb. “We have some beers in the fridge.”

Ichigo couldn’t believe it: that was the highest degree of hospitality that Grimmjow had ever shown.

“Oh. Nice idea.”

Grimmjow walked back to the kitchen with Renji behind him. “So…” Ichigo and Rukia heard him saying. “…that mad hat is a bitch to Shinigami as well.”

When Ichigo and Rukia glanced at each other, they saw in each other the same feeling: utter shock.

“W-what has just happened?” Ichigo asked.

“Why do you think I know it?” Rukia looked at Ichika, who was exploring the sideboard. “What’s wrong, Ichika?”

“I’m hungry! Let’s eat!”

Ichigo frowned. “Hey, don’t act as if this is your house! Ask first!”

Before her daughter mentioned it, Rukia hadn’t realized she was feeling a feeble clench inside the stomach telling her that some food wouldn’t be wasted; the delicious smell coming from the kitchen triggered her body into demanding something good to fill the empty stomach.

“What’s this smell?”

“It’s stew, right?” A gray cat appeared out of nowhere into Ichika’s arms. Ichigo wondered when she had the time to go and grab it. “Stew with potatoes!” She ran towards the kitchen.

Rukia frowned. “Ichigo.”

“What?”

“You also should make amends because you didn’t tell me before that Ichika comes here regularly.”

“You remember now?” Ichigo snarled. “Your daughter disappears for a whole day and you don’t wonder where she could be? You are the one to be scolded, giving priority to kittens and not to your daughter.” He looked down and two kittens appeared in Rukia’s arm. “When did you take them?!” He was sure she stayed by his side the whole time.

“Don’t lose your temper. You are so inelegant.” Rukia stated. “These precious fluffy balls need to be protected, while Ichika can take care of herself.”

“You can keep them. I’m planning on giving them away anyway. I never gave Grimmjow my permission to bring them here.”

The shock on Rukia’s face matched the one she felt many years ago, when Ichigo questioned if the koi carps in her brother’s lake were healthy or not. She stroked the kittens on the head and didn’t give any room for struggles and wriggles from her deadly hug of love.

“You monster! This is their house now! You can’t kick them out!”

“I’m not kicking…” Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Aaah, whatever!” He glanced at Grimmjow and Renji: whatever they were talking about, it gave the same feeling of looking at two good friends chatting together – despite being both with a severe frown shaping their eyebrows.

“…and that’s how I beat Ichigo’s ass when I first met him.”

Grimmjow made a grimace. “Typical. I don’t even know how he came out unscathed from all those battles.”

“Because we were there to protect his ass, that’s how.”

Every feeling flooded away from Ichigo, and he deadpanned them. “Out of my house, right now!”

Rukia complained. “What a grumpy attitude. Don’t you know that hospitality is the way for socialization?” She put both hand on her hips. “It’s only obvious that we must be your guests for dinner.” Her voice went from the firm order of a queen to the squeaky excitement of a teenager. “Right, little ones?” The kittens didn’t seem to agree with the idea of having strangers around the house, but none of them could wriggle away from Rukia.

“No way! Go back to Soul Society!”

However, nobody listened to Ichigo. As he felt something touching his feet, he looked down: the sole survivor of Rukia and Ichika’s chasing gave him a tiny weak meow. Ichigo picked him up, so small that he stayed in one hand; he gave him a little scratch behind the ears, which flickered in approval.

“Why does nobody ever listen to me?” The cat meowed, and Ichigo made him accommodate to his right shoulder. “Yes, you’re right, little one.”

***

Ichigo only wanted to watch a movie and empty his mind before collapsing on his bed. His mind refused to cooperate and help him forget about having anything done with his novel, so, after dinner, he sprawled on the sofa. Grimmjow followed him after doing the dishes and sat next to him.

“What’s this movie about?”

Ichigo didn’t look at him. “I don’t know. It’s just started.”

“It looks boring.”

“It’s been barely two minutes. Shut it.”

Ten minutes later, Ichigo had to admit the premises of that movie weren’t the best. Five more minutes and he didn’t stop Grimmjow when he put his hand inside his trousers, even if some part of him wanted to give a last chance to a calm movie evening. But, a couple of minutes later, Ichigo forgot about the television and could only focus on Grimmjow’s fingers milking his prostate.

Ichigo was worn out, his spirit completely devastated because of the hard work, so, he wouldn’t mind letting Grimmjow take the lead, spread his legs open and ram his dick inside him like a savage beast – actually, the idea tingled his already hard dick. However, Ichigo was stubborn enough not to accept such a submission three times in a row (but Grimmjow taking him on the balcony that morning was glorious). As he pushed Grimmjow away, he received the confused look he was expecting. Ichigo slammed him against the soft backseat and sat on his lap.

“Don’t faint during the action.” Grimmjow smirked. “It’d ruin the fun.”

“And you don’t come early. It’d ruin _my_ fun.” Ichigo chuckled near his lips and kissed him once.

“Now I’m used to this delicate body.”

“Oh, really?” A firm squeeze between his legs, and Grimmjow jolted. “Then what’s this?”

“A reaction.” Grimmjow slightly bit his neck, distracting Ichigo right before he brushed the tips of his warm fingers in between his greased ass. It twitched. “Like this.”

Ichigo felt his dick rutting against his eager hole and didn’t hesitate to ride on Grimmjow, taking the whole length inside. Erected, hard, big. It was almost more pleasant than looking at Grimmjow gasping with a wide mouth; he wasn’t as used to human sensations as he claimed he was. Ichigo started moving, up and down, using the last bit of stamina he had left for pleasure’s sake. He grabbed Grimmjow’s right wrist, making him let go of the grip on his butt cheek and grab something more bracing; Ichigo gave him the rhythm he wanted on his own cock in a frenzied hand-job.

“Ah, shit.” As Ichigo felt his legs going numb, his movements became slower and sloppier. The disappointment on Grimmjow’s face was so evident that Ichigo was expecting him to flip the positions over; he was now pinned down, his arms blocked over his head and Grimmjow pounding into his slippery ass.

Ichigo let his mind go blank. All he could feel was Grimmjow’s body rubbing against and inside him, all he could see was Grimmjow’s grin standing out in the darkness. He was so sexy and beautiful.

Grimmjow moaned as Ichigo’s fingers sank in desperation on his back. “You like having me in you, huh?”

“Yes.” Ichigo exhaled. His hands ran blindly on Grimmjow’s back and clamped on his ass, pulling him against himself. “Don’t take it out.” Ichigo chuckled against his lips.

Grimmjow’s laugh mingled with a moan. “I’ll fill you to the brim.” And they kissed.

Later, when Ichigo noticed the mess on the clean sofa and started complaining, Grimmjow would compare him to an old grumpy man and ruffle his hair with an evilish laugh. Ichigo couldn’t tell why he found that small gesture more embarrassing than Grimmjow rimming his ass.

***

Ichigo looked healthier than last time Orihime visited. The dark circles around the eyes disappeared, his complexion gained a human shade, the feeble beard was gone, and his clothes weren’t pajamas.

“I thought the deadline was next week. You don’t look like a zombie as always.” Orihime was as direct as always.

“It’s next week.” Ichigo grumbled. “But this morning Grimmjow shoved me under the shower.”

During the time he went to the kitchen and poured the coffee in the small cups, Orihime glanced at Grimmjow’s body on the couch. Ichigo put a blanket on it, even if he didn’t need it in that moment, as Grimmjow was outside of the gigai and left behind an empty shell. However, the cats didn’t dislike idling on that human replica; one of them tried to keep her eyes open, as Orihime’s presence dragged her attention, but she ended up falling asleep on her side.

“So, how are things going, Ichigo-kun?”

“Like always. Nothing new.”

“And you?”

“Uryu-kun almost cried the other day. Kanae said _papa_ for the first time!” Orihime put one, two, three cubes of sugar. Then, after a quick sip, she added another two under Ichigo’s horrified eyes. She smacked her lips. “It’s delicious!”

“I’m… glad?”

“I see you’re getting along with Grimmjow!”

Ichigo huffed. “He’ll leave soon. Together with the cats.”

“Ah, aren’t you keeping them? You were playing with them when I arrived.” Orihime tilted her head. “Kazui always sounds so fond when he talks about Grimmjow-kun that I thought he would stay here for a while.”

“No.” Ichigo shook his head. “I’m pretty sure that when I’ve finished my novel and fought him, things will go back as before.”

“And would you dislike it?” Naïve like a child, Orihime frowned in confusion. “I thought he settled well here.”

“He’s an arrancar.”

“And your father was a Shinigami.” Her smile was bright. “Urahara-san and Yoruichi-san as well have been staying here for a long time and haven’t returned to Soul Society even if they’ve been cleared from all charges!”

“But Grimmjow it’s different. He–”

The clicking noise of the door opening interrupted him. Grimmjow, with the mask covering his right cheek and the sword hanging from his waist, entered the apartment and was already growling.

“I’m going to kick that Quincy’s ass someday!” At the entrance of the living room, he stopped for an instant and glanced at Orihime.

Ichigo frowned. “Grimmjow.”

“I’m not pretending me and mister _you cannot kill Hollows_ are friends only because Hime is here. Forget it, Kurosaki.”

There were many things to elaborate from his words, and Ichigo started from the most obvious. “Hime?” He asked for an answer from Orihime.

“Well, we’ve been doing groceries together lately. Sometimes we also hang out! You know, there’s a nice coffee shop near the hospital where Uryu-kun works. I didn’t know it until Grimmjow-kun showed me! They make the best parfait!”

“And Uryu…?”

The cats had already realized who was the real deal and, awakened by his strong presence, climbed to Grimmjow’s arms to receive some warm cuddles. So, it was pretty strange looking at a full-grown adult sending death threats with his face while gently rocking a mother cat with her kittens. “He’s a Quincy and erases souls, as I do! Since I cannot go around and kill Hollows who bring havoc and _he_ can, I won’t help you with your Shinigami duties anymore!” The telephone rang. Grimmjow answered the call and snarled at the poor caller. “Kurosaki is dead!” However, from the other side, a female voice kept asking _“Hello? Hello? Is this Kurosaki Ichigo?” _Silence. _“I can’t hear anything. Are you there, mister Kurosaki?”_ Grimmjow hung up.

“You’re not in your gigai.” Ichigo reminded him.

Without a reply, Grimmjow went straight to the bedroom. “I’m sleeping. Don’t disturb me with useless stuff.”

“As if.” Ichigo looked again at Orihime, whose chuckle was larger than before.

“You two truly get along! He also helps you with your Shinigami duties!”

“But I haven’t asked him anything. He did it on his own and comes here complaining…” Ichigo massaged his forehead. “He always worries me.”

Orihime wondered since when did they have that friendly relationship, but this soothed her worries. Ichigo seemed to be doing fine and didn’t need any external help, as Grimmjow was already there to help him even when not asked to. The desire of battle could do miracles when it came to an arrancar, like the love for someone else drove humans to do unimaginable things. Orihime was drinking her coffee, when she had _the_ epiphany. One sip took the wrong route, and she saw all her flourishing life rolling in front of her eyes like the frames of a movie. However, with few strong coughs she pushed death away from her and could concentrate on Ichigo. He was deadly worried but became even more confused when saw a scorching fire burning in Orihime’s eyes.

She clamped his hands into hers. “Ichigo-kun, I’m rooting for you!”

Ichigo didn’t get what she was talking about and, despite having spent together almost ten years together, he was still far from understanding all of Orihime’s reactions. “Uhm… thank you?”

***

14th of February.

Ichigo handed in his novel that morning, after spending the whole night checking if everything was alright, and then collapsed on the table. He later woke up in the afternoon in his bed; probably Grimmjow brought him there. Despite when they used to have sex even more than once per day, the thought of such a tender attention embarrassed him. Ichigo curled in the thick blanket and closed his eyes again.

He wanted some chocolate but didn’t want to get out of the bed.

“It sucks…”

“Hey, Kurosaki!” Grimmjow slammed the door of the bedroom. “Wake up!”

Ichigo sneaked his head out of the blanket and glared at him with drowsy eyes. “Lower your voice.”

“Get your ass out of there. I want some chocolate.”

That was utterly unexpected. Grimmjow was already finely dressed -he got rid of his usual trousers and t-shirt- and with a bag in hand was ready to go raid some shop.

“It doesn’t work like that, Grimmjow. You receive chocolate from your partner.”

“Well, aren’t we?!” Ichigo was stunned. Those words were too surprising for him to find an immediate reply, instead he gave him a dumbfounded look. He wondered if he was still sleeping and was just living some weird dream (that happened a lot when he was younger), but Grimmjow’s snort and scorn were all too strong to be fake. “We do whatever a normal couple does! You complain I put too much salt in the soup, you always send me around to do because you locked yourself in to work, I cannot play videogames without you complaining about the volume.” He counted on the fingers. “Why can’t we do nice things like this chocolate day?”

Ichigo emitted a confused sound. “Chocolate day…? Who…?”

“Hime.”

He still wasn’t used to hearing Grimmjow call Orihime that. Boy, he surely locked himself in long enough for Grimmjow to get used to human life more than Ichigo would have ever managed to.

“And what has she told you?”

“That we must eat chocolate together.”

Ichigo massaged his head. “Okay… I’ll take a shower and we’ll go out, okay?”

“Hurry.”

“Don’t act like an impatient teenager!”

“All humans are impatient, not only teenagers!”

Ichigo could read a feeble excitement dancing inside Grimmjow’s eyes. It had been a while since the last time he put a single foot outside his apartment – and that was because Chad was strong enough to raise him like a sack of potatoes and Ichigo couldn’t fight against his decision that he needed to breathe some fresh air. But he had never been outside in the streets with Grimmjow showing his gigai off. He wondered what would have happened, and what would have been the feeling of walking side to side with him – _like a couple_.

Getting out of bed became more pleasant than Ichigo had thought.


End file.
